Rise
by L.D. Eddy
Summary: But is Ra's al Ghul immortal? Are his methods supernatural? What really happened to the Head of The Demon? [Ra's al Ghul, OC]
1. Chapter 1

Melissa took her cup in hand and shuddered as she heard another scream.

"Oh, God, it's on me!" The shriek came from outside of her apartment, but Melissa was unable to see the source; most of her windows and doors, to keep the gas from creeping in, had been barricaded with what looked like everything from her bathroom closet and Home Depot. She'd even covered up the peek-hole in her door.

"Please, mommy, don't!" A man screamed. "I didn't mean to!"

She took a deep breath before sipping her tea – a comforting chamomile that she had been practically addicted to since moving from a small town in New Hampshire to big bad Gotham City in New York.

She usually drank one cup of chamomile a night due to the various gang related activities such as shootings and murders that happened in the nicer part of the Narrows that she lived in. It was constantly fought over.

"Oh, why is there so much blood? I can't get it off...can't get it off...can't get it-"

She was coming up on her sixth cup of the night.

The emergency broadcast that had come on the TV earlier had said to stay inside. Don't go outside no matter what. There was this...this gas that was causing people to hallucinate and already the body count had become quite high.

And that fire down the street had looked very malicious when she'd blockaded her windows.

So tonight it was just her, her depleting stockpile of tea, and her instant queue on Netflix.

"Get away! Don't eat me!"

Up next was Breakfast at Tiffany's. Maybe it'd take her mind off of the fact that her boss was a raging dickmonster who wouldn't care if the city was destroying itself; if Melissa didn't show to clean rooms, she'd be incredibly angry. Hell, she might fire her.

Melissa shook herself slightly and manged to wiggle deeper into her blanket cocoon.

If Audrey Hepburn and chamomile tea couldn't calm her down, there was no helping her.

"God, help me!"

* * *

Melissa blearily opened her eyes and peered through the dark curtain of her hair. Little cracks of sunlight had managed to burst through her homemade barricades.

Daylight.

No screaming.

Hell, the fire hadn't even reached her building.

She pushed herself up into sitting and looked around her room.

Her cup of tea had crashed to the floor during the night. She'd have to clean that up soon.

She yawned before stretching and switched her TV over to the news.

"Gothamites are advised to be cautious when out and about today. Though the gas has dissipated-"

Advised to be cautious? She could leave the house. Melissa smiled slightly.

Time to decimate the closest store's stockpile of tea.

She threw on her coat and boots and grabbed her purse before ripping all of the duct-tape and towels off of her door and thunking down the steps of her apartment building.

She practically ran to her car when she saw it.

Somehow, miraculously he had been untouched in the hallucination-induced riots that had gone on in the night.

She fondly slipped into 'Old Lou' – her father had explained to her that all cars needed a name and hers had struck her as a loveable old gentleman that looked slightly like Santa and was named Lou – before starting him up and listening to his engine hum.

"Thank god you're still alive, you old bugger," Melissa told the car, rubbing the steering wheel.

She pulled out of her parking space and into the road, driving slower and slightly more cautious than she usually would. Hardly anyone other than the police were on the roads.

She drove for a few minutes before she reached what appeared to be ground zero of a massive amount of damage – the old centrail station.

Melissa stopped Old Lou in awe and got out.

Everything was charred and destroyed.

It looked like someone had just set off a bomb in the building. It was horrifying.

She held her hands to her face and stared, dropped jaw'd at the colossal ruins.

"Unnghh," Melissa whipped her head towards the noise.

Had someone been inside when the building had-?

The person coughed. And kept coughing. Melissa ran towards the source.

Someone was trapped underneath many layers of rubble.

Melissa clawed at the space around them, trying to dig them out and free them. What if they were injured? Judging by the constant moaning and groaning they were.

"Just hold on a minute, okay?" Melissa murmured quietly. "I'll get you out. You'll be fine." The debris was rough underneath her hands and scraped her up a bit but she paid no attention to it at all.

She managed to free, rather quickly, what turned out to be a man. An incredibly burned, incredibly filthy man.

"Can you hear me?" Melissa asked, pulling him out of his little crater. He nodded slowly. "Are you alright?"

"I think...no," His voice was rough but quiet.

"What's your name?"

"Henri. Henri Ducard," he coughed out.

"Well, Mister Ducard, I'm Melissa. I'm bringing you to the hospi-"

"No...I need the Laz-"

"Sir, you need a hospital," Melissa muttered. She managed to heft him up so she was supporting most of his weight and brought him over to her car. She huffed and leaned him up against the car before opening one of the back doors. "I need to start working out," She groaned before helping him into the back.

"Thank you," The man muttered. "Thank you, Melissa." Melissa let a small smile slip onto her face for a moment.

She looked around and frowned. A man wearing all black was staring at the car. And at her. She quickly jumped into her seat, started up Old Lou, and concentrated on keeping her eyes on the road.

It was off to the hospital, then to the grocery store.

Her tea supply wasn't going to restock itself, was it?

* * *

_**A/N: So, this idea has been dancing around my brain for quite a few months, but I wanted to wait to post it...so here you go! Enjoy :)**_

_**Oh, and please review.**_


	2. Chapter 2

Ra's opened his eyes groggily and looked around.

He was in a hospital. Why was he in-

That woman. The woman who had freed him from the crushing weight of the debris. She'd said something about bringing him to a hospital. He'd tried to tell her-

Had he said something about the pits?

He couldn't remember.

He reached up and rubbed his aching head, only to feel bandages wrapped around his head.

_**CRASH**_

His head snapped up and he fixed a glare at the woman that had dropped the tray.

"O-oh. Oh, I'm so sorry. It's just, well...you're awake!" The woman said, shock painting her voice and visage. He glared even harder.

"And my consciousness was shocking enough for you to cause such a clatter?" He muttered.

"Oh, it's just...you weren't supposed to be up yet. By all rights, you _should_ still be unconscious. The doctor put you in a-"

"Medically induced coma," Ra's would've rolled his eyes but he possessed more decorum than a common street thug. The nurse was irritating him and he didn't understand why. Perhaps it was because he's just woken up. "When can the bandages come off?"

"Well," The nurse opened her mouth. "The doctor should be able to tell you when he gets in."

"And the woman?" Ra's asked.

"Hmm?"

"The woman. The one that brought me in. What's her name?"

"Oh. I can go check for you. We require n-"

"Go check."

"Of course, sir."

* * *

Melissa Anderson of the Narrows.

He'd have to find her. Maybe it was time to see from a native's perspective why Gotham and it's people were worth fighting for – or at least worth the effort of helping each other.

That would come after his burns heal. Or after he snuck out of the hospital.

And judging by the muck they deemed food, he would be sneaking away soon.

* * *

It was nighttime and the security in the hospital had gone down to its barest bones. Now was time to escape.

Ra's got out of the bed, unwrapped the bandages from his head, and made his way to the window.

There was no sense in risking getting caught in the halls when he could easily make his way through less conventional entries.

He sprung himself through the window and climbed down the side of the old building.

In all honesty, it was easier climbing down the building than it would have been to escape through the halls.

He just had to be mindful of the windows.

* * *

Facebook had to be one of the most inventive and useful tools when you wanted to find someone.

Melissa Anderson, originally from some small town in New Hampshire, lived in an apartment building at 571 Baker Drive.

A few minutes of digging found a picture of her from her move into the apartment building. She was sweaty, she looked like a mess, but she was smiling.

She was also standing in front of her apartment door.

The caption proclaimed her the proud renter of the space behind the door – apartment 3b, if the silver marks on the door were anything to go by.

She was also an only child and had no family in the state.

Ra's was starting to gain an appreciation for modern technology.

* * *

Melissa slipped into the tub and sighed. Finally, some time to relax after what the city had dubbed "Fear Night."

Thankfully her boss hadn't fired her, she'd only been reprimanded and given the rest of the week off due to 'traumatizing circumstances' or so Genevieve had told the rest of her employees.

She was just about to turn on the jets in the tub when-

_**Knock Knock Knock**_

She groaned. "Ugh. Just a minute!" She yelled. She slipped out of the tub and quickly threw on her bathrobe, tying the sash before rushing to the front door. She took a quick peek through the hole in her door.

It was the man – Henri Ducard – that she'd dug out of the ruins of the car garage.

She whipped open the door and smiled.

"Hi," She said, offering her hand to him. "It's good to see you're doing better, Mr. Ducard."

His brows furrowed as well as they could on his burnt face.

"You do realize you live in Gotham, correct?" He asked, pushing past her into the apartment.

"Um, yeah," Melissa said, crossing her arms and closing her door with her foot. "Sorry for the mess, I wasn't expecting-"

"A complete and utter stranger to barge into your home uninvited?"

"I wouldn't say barge in uninvi-"

"You do not know me, Ms. Anderson," Ducard said. "I am a strange man in your home-"

"I rescued you, you're not a stra-"

"Ms. Anderson, you live in Gotham, opening the door for someone you hardly know is incredibly dangerous. Are you trying to be murdered?" Ra's asked.

"I- well...no."

"Lesson number one; don't trust anyone."

"Excuse me? Lesson, Mr. Ducard? What are you doing here?"

"Originally, I came to thank you for your kindness. Now you've made me curious," He said, turning to look at her. Melissa stared at him in befuddlement.

"Well, you're welcome, I guess," She muttered. Curious? Was that a bad thing? Considering the way he spoke down to her, it seemed to be. "And, lesson? What-"

"You, Ms. Anderson live in the most dangerous city in the United States," Ducard told her. "And you are an incredibly foolish naïve woman."

"Ex_cuse_ me?" Melissa demanded.

"Well, you appear to have a backbone, so it shouldn't be much work," He mused.

"Excuse, me, Mr. Ducard, I'd like to-"

"Ask me to leave? No, I don't believe I will. You see, I am repaying my debt to you, though you don't even recognize it as repayment. You are in no way fit to live in this wretched city."

* * *

_**A/N:**_

_**So, here's the next chapter!**_

_**Stitcher: Here you go! Hope you enjoy :) I'm on a bit of a small updating streak. Enjoy it while it lasts.**_


	3. Chapter 3

"Not fit to live in the city?" Melissa asked.

"You are a defenseless woman. Practically a damsel in distress. Your lack of basic instinct demands that you be rescued by someone more capable than yourself," He told her.

Melissa's hand wished she had a hot cup of tea or a hot skillet to bash his head in. Screw having saved his life, he thought she was defenseless!

He seemed to know what she was thinking because he sighed and shook his head.

"Don't go acting all self-righteous and indignant," He muttered. "It's unbecoming of you."

"How would you know?" Melissa demanded. "You've been in my presence all of five minutes, _maybe_."

"The car ride the other day doesn't count then, I suppose."

"You were unconscious," Melissa snapped.

"And neither does looking at that profile of yours online?"

Melissa paled.

"What profile?" She asked. _Please, please God, please don't let it be that damned da-_

"I believe it's called Facebook, although I did see your dating profile," He saw the agonizing embarrassment on her face and smirked. "Don't worry, it didn't help me find you. You are in no way going to be stalked by any undesirable men that find you on that website, though I would recommend changing your Facebook settings."

Dammit. Melissa knew that damned profile her mother set up for her was going to come back to bite her in the ass. She was going to delete that thing as soon as possible.

"I'll consider it," Melissa snapped.

"You should," He told her. Ducard looked around the room and sighed in distaste. "Is there any particular reason for the towels and the duct-tape?" He asked.

Melissa stared at him in confusion. "Don't you remember what happened the other night?"

"The other night?" He asked.

"Everybody was going crazy. There was this...hallucinatory gas," Melissa explained.

"And you used the towels and tape to keep it out," He muttered. "I'm guessing other citizens of Gotham managed to do the same. A shame."

"A shame?" Melissa asked. She glared at him, her hands turning into fists. "People were ripping each other apart, kids were out there, and you're calling it a shame that some of us managed to keep that gas out of our homes?"

"Yes."

"What kind of monster are you?"

"I'm the one that vaporized your water, creating the gas that you managed to protect yourself from."

"Wh-what?"

* * *

He could feel her staring at him before she sat down at the other end of the small dining table and took up her fork. He ate a bite of the microwavable meal she had given him and surmised it wasn't terrible before looking up at her.

"Does it bother you, Melissa?" He finally said. She jumped slightly.

"Hmm? Oh, um, what? Does what bother me?" She asked, looking down at her own microwavable slop.

"Does it bother you that you are sitting here, eating dinner with the man that caused your city so much horror and death?" Ra's asked. He watched as she chewed slowly.

"A lit- okay, that's a lie," Melissa said quietly. She tucked her hair behind her ears. "It does. A lot."

"I assumed as much," He said. "Tell me, Melissa, what do you think was my reasoning?"

"Behind the mass-terror and murder?" Melissa asked. "I have no clue."

"Would you like to?"

"Wouldn't anybody?"

Ra's took the bottle of cheap wine from the middle of the table and poured them both a glass. Melissa grabbed the bottle from his hands and filled her glass almost to the brim.

"I feel like I'm gonna need this," She muttered, taking a sip. She set her glass down before making eye contact with him. "Why did you do it?"

"Gotham's time has come."

"Oh, Jesus," Melissa muttered. She took up her cup again and took a large gulp of wine.

"You believe I am crazy," Ra's said.

"Who wouldn't? Gotham's time has come?" Melissa asked. "An entire city full of people with dreams and families and full of people who can still love and you think the entire city is doomed?"

"There may be those few good people left, Melissa," Ra's said slowly, making sure she fully understood the words he was about to say. "Make no mistake. I do understand that. However, Gotham City is infected by men who act as monsters do-"

"And the monsters have condemned an entire city in your eyes?" Melissa asked, her tone losing its hostility and gaining a curious undertone. Interesting. "How is that-"

"Possible?" Ra's interrupted. "These monsters that parade around as men have spread injustice and suffering. It has corrupt those who should be incorruptible. Gotham City is beyond saving. That is why I do what I do," He confessed. "My name is not Henri Ducard. It is Ra's al Ghul. I am the leader of an organization called the League of Shadows. We are centuries-old and we have destroyed all cities that have outlived their existence. Like Gotham. Gotham is plagued, and it is beyond saving. You know that, don't you, Melissa?" He said, taking a drink of his wine. She fidgeted in her seat. He let a small smile grace his face. "Yes, you do. I can see it in your eyes. You live in the most infected area of the city; The Narrows. You know it every time you hear a gun fired, or hear someone scream, or a child cry."

"But should those crying children be subjected to the punishment of those that cause them to cry?" Melissa asked quietly, her voice breaking. He'd caught her, and both of them knew it.

"It is unfortunate, Melissa," He said quietly. He left his chair and stood behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders in a comforting way. "That there should be collateral damage. It is unfortunate, but it is necessary. Perhaps one day you will see that," He took his hands from her shoulders and turned to walk into the living room. "I'll sleep on the couch," He called back to her. "Where do you keep your blankets?" She unfroze and stood, walking towards a closet in the hall and pulling out a few blankets and pillows. She silently handed them to him.

"Goodnight," She muttered, walking into her bedroom and quietly closing the door.

Their wine glasses were left on the kitchen table.

* * *

_**A/N:**_

_**So...there's chapter 3!**_

_**Stitcher: Oh no, he's definitely not leaving :)**_

_**xSiriuslyPadfoot: Haha, yay! I'm happy you like it so much! I hope you like this one as well :)**_


End file.
